


A Marriage of Convenience

by Jae



Category: Bandom, Empires, Panic At The Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jae/pseuds/Jae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regency AU. Jon was not opposed to marrying to his advantage in principle, but he'd never thought to wed himself to the season's scandal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Marriage of Convenience

"You're not the first one to do it, my lord, and you won't be the last."

Jon wondered wearily how words that had been spoken so often and to so many with the best of intentions could carry so little comfort. "But I don't understand what happened to all the money," he said, and then sighed as his attorneys exchanged looks and remained politely silent. Of course Jon understood what happened to all the money: he might have escaped the family curse of gambling, but unfortunately neither his father nor his grandfather had. And perhaps Jon had inherited the family curses of carelessness with money and love of travel and at least mild luxury, but in his defense, no one had told him things were this bad. He knew they were bad, of course, but when he left for his Grand Tour he had thought things were bad the way they were bad for half of his friends. Everyone knew there was no money, really, but somehow there had always been money for what he needed.

That was why it was such an unpleasant surprise when he was summoned home after his father's death to hear how he was truly circumstanced. It seemed his father had even sold off some of the land that had been in their family for centuries, which Jon could hardly believe of his father and certainly would never consider himself. It was almost disgraceful, he thought but did not say. When he looked at his attorney and estate manager over his father's desk in his father's library, Jon's library, he saw that they felt the same. It was the shock of the situation as much as anything else that made Jon even consider the proposal they'd put forth.

Jon was not opposed to marrying to his advantage in principle. He'd always assumed it would come to that, though he'd hoped to wait a little longer and to have a little more choice in the matter. But he'd certainly never thought to wed himself to the season's scandal.

"I've resigned myself to an alliance with the marketplace," he said, "but must I really settle for someone who's shopworn as well?"

"No one knows what really happened," his attorney said quickly. "It's shocking, how people talk. And he's just a young lad, and his father is not – well, he's not one to turn to for an education in delicate matters. I'm sure the boy was just misled. Wentz is a menace, it's a shame all the young people are so mad for him. It was a seven days' wonder, but I'm sure people have forgotten, and of course we don't even know if anything did happen, or if it did that it was so terrible, I'm sure it was overblown --"

"I heard they were found by two servants sneaking into the house before daybreak. Alone. After spending the night together."

His attorney looked down uncomfortably. "Well, as to that, who knows? People will say anything, heaven knows."

"Yes," Jon said. "But in this case people seem to have been telling the truth." The story had reached English circles in Italy, not that that was a surprise. Anything Wentz did was well-documented in gossip and moralizing. Jon had found the whole incident amusing, as it was so typical of the man. Opinion among Jon's friends was evenly split as to whether Tom Conrad was simply cheap, not incomprehensible given his upbringing, or whether the Conrads had hatched the whole plot in order to trap Wentz into doing the honorable thing and marrying him. Wentz's parents had made their opinion on the subject known by sending him abroad that very night, and Jon had looked forward to hearing Wentz tell the story himself. Circumstances had intervened, however, and Jon now found the story much less amusing now that he was in the position of cleaning up the mess Wentz had made.

"Look on the bright side, the boy has many fine qualities, even aside from his father's pocketbook. He's certainly good-looking –"

"Yes," Jon said. "If Wentz was involved, I'm sure he is."

"And from all accounts he's quiet, doesn't push himself forward," his estate manager put in. "Doubt he'll bother you much, and that's more of a blessing than you're old enough to know yet."

Jon said desperately, "Will he embarrass me? Will I even be able to bring him to my friends' houses?"

"Between your name and his father's money," his attorney said, "I doubt there's a drawing-room in London that won't admit him. It's a sadly cynical world we live in."

"It's a practical one," the estate manager said. "As to what you're really asking, well, if a man could know that before the marriage there'd be a lot of people sleeping easier tonight. No way of really knowing till you know, but if he's wise he's learned his lesson, and if he's not wise but clever you can leave him in the country where he can't get in much trouble. Wouldn't be the first time, and won't be the last, I warrant."

"That's very comforting," Jon said, pushing a hand through his hair. "There's really nothing for it, then? I have no other choice?"

"You need a great deal of money very badly," his attorney said, "and your name, noble as it is, is not quite great enough –"

"To buy someone unless he also needs something, very badly," Jon said with a sigh. "Fine. Make the arrangements. Just – if you can, try to see that he doesn't bring anything too vulgar into my father's house."

It was vanity, perhaps, but Jon had assumed once he gave his assent the matter would be settled and he'd not be bothered until the wedding. However, Tom's father, though more than generous with the terms, was insistent on one matter. He wanted Jon and Tom to meet at least once before the wedding day, "to make sure they'd suit." Jon was tempted to have his advisers explain that they had embarked on these elaborate negotiations precisely because he and Tom did not suit, and that the best way of ensuring that the marriage would take place was to try to keep Jon from realizing just exactly how much they did not suit for as long as possible. Instead he settled for making sure his attorney kept Tom's father from attending the meeting, as he knew that that would be enough to shatter his resolve, no matter how much he needed the money.

They couldn't meet at Jon's house, of course – Tom's reputation was bad enough – and his advisers were determined to keep him far from Tom's father's monument to vulgarity in the less fashionable part of town. But Jon had a convenient elderly aunt who lived far enough out of society to have missed the worst of the talk, and so was happy enough to invite them both to tea and chaperone discreetly from a distance.

Jon was gratified to see that Tom was even better-looking than advertised, and dressed quite acceptably in plain but fine clothes. As they shook hands Jon even considered that he might come to call himself lucky. He'd seen some of what his poorer friends had found themselves saddled with, as ugly as they were rich. He forced himself to admit that, with Tom's looks and his father's money, even in snobbish London Tom could have done much better than Jon, were it not for the unfortunate incident. Jon even found himself wondering if there was a possibility of moving the wedding date up.

After fifteen minutes Jon's thoughts were not as sanguine. Tom had no conversation. While even that might be forgiven to someone young and without the benefit of refined company, Tom compounded his error by responding to Jon's most charming repartee with monosyllables. When Jon's best gossip and stories of his set's adventures in town failed to elicit a response that even the most charitable could call polite, he gave up and was driven to making conversation with his aunt, who even though elderly and a bluestocking was at least not sulking over her tea. She wasn't one for town tittle-tattle, so Jon told her stories of his travels through Europe, the art and natural wonders he saw. He was surprised after a few minutes to notice Tom listening with apparent interest.

"Do you like to travel?" he asked as his aunt retired behind her tea table.

"I don't know," Tom said. Jon had a moment of despair at the prospect of spending his life with someone incapable of expressing an opinion on any topic. Then Tom said, "I never have."

While this conversational gambit might have seemed weak to someone who hadn't spent fifteen minutes trying to determine Tom's thoughts on carriages, theater parties and the new style of cravat to no avail, Jon nearly leapt from his chair to cheer. He restrained himself, however, to remarking, "No? I would have thought you would have had great opportunity to do so."

"My father never saw the point of traveling," Tom said softly enough that Jon had to lean in to catch the words. "He always said that the greatest of everything was here in England."

Jon laughed, and then when he saw that Tom was not joking, said, "Well, to a serious man like him, I'm sure that's true. Certainly the greatest matters of business are here. But to a sadly frivolous man like myself, France and Italy still hold some sway. What about you? Are you serious and wedded to England, or could I tempt you with some frivolity?"

"I'd like to go to Italy," Tom said, his voice quickening. "The art is so beautiful, I'd love to see it in person, and the country is said to be lovely too. Pete always said –"

Even as Tom cut the word off sharply, Jon couldn't help choking. He was, frankly, shocked. He had determined never to mention the whole unfortunate matter to Tom as a kindness to him, but he could not believe that Tom could say the man's name to his face. Jon had prepared himself for coarse manners, but he had not expected Tom to have no shame at all. For once Jon was at a loss for words.

Tom flushed dully as Jon didn't speak, and looked down at his teacup. He spun it a little, spilling tea over the rim into his saucer and onto his fingers, and hissed, though it couldn't have been that hot. When Jon caught his eye Tom dipped his head and then looked straight at him, lifting his chin. "Pete always said," he repeated, slowly and deliberately, "that I would love it there." He brushed aside the napkin Jon half-heartedly offered him and lifted his burnt fingers to his mouth instead, watching Jon the whole time.

While Jon, like everyone else, didn't know the exact details of the indiscretion, he had assumed Tom had simply made a stupid and costly mistake, whether in losing control in a way that neither Jon nor anyone he knew ever would, or else in plotting to trap someone as clearly out of his league as Wentz. He'd thought of Tom as someone sadly ignorant of the rules of Jon's world. Suddenly he wondered if Tom were ignorant of those rules, or openly defiant. Jon had, he would not have been pleased to admit, a limited experience in these matters, but the thought came unbidden to his mind that anyone who had spent so much time with Pete Wentz might well be neither stupidly innocent nor foolishly ignorant, but rather something altogether different. He looked at Tom sitting across from him, turning his face away so Jon could see the sharp line of his jaw, his color high along his cheekbone and his mouth reddened, a flash of white against pink as he bit his lip. He shot another glance at Jon and then looked away, but not before meeting Jon's gaze briefly.

It occurred to Jon that there might be other consolations to this marriage beyond the material.


End file.
